Why is Manchester so much better?

I arrived on a train at 15.04, and was swept into the crowd walking toward the underground. Reflecting on this, I considered that I was not very comfortable going into a hole in the ground when I was on thirteeen on a camping trip, so why should I be happy doing the same now (with more people and no helmet).

People walk competitively when they're in the underground, contorting their bodies to fit through people's legs and get further underground quicker.

A few hundred metres and a few hundred seconds later, I contorted my own body (or did my best with my gargantuan Christmas load) into a small tube, putting my arms and my bags where space would allow.

And then I closed my eyes, returning to my music and the peace I had enjoyed not ten minutes previously on a much quieter train. And then somebody fell on me, and spilt their Fanta on my coat and bag. After he recovered (his Fanta, then himself), his shamed face appealed to my disappointed expression. I rolled over and comforted him, nothing to worry about I thought, a bit of soft drink, I enjoy having an Orange scent anyway. It was a blessing in disguise.

I knew however that my mild-mannered response would not ensure my survival in future. You don't fall over on tubes, not if you hold the bloody hand bar like every other sensible person. I should have told him to get a grip. Literally.

Returning to my flat, I can feel the emphysema developing nicely on my chest. Welcome back to London. Why is Manchester so much better? Is it the water?